Trust
by tealgameboycoloR
Summary: Quinn has never been able to trust anyone - her parents, her siblings, her friends, and even her husband. But when she finds someone worth trusting, will she realize it?
1. Prologue

I was holding the cell-phone so tightly my knuckles had turned a ghostly white. It had even begun to hurt. Nevertheless, I continued to clutch the object as if my life depended on it. As I held on, the fingertips of my free hand brushed gently over the touch screen, scrolling through the incriminating messages passed back and forth between my husband and his lover. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill.

But they never fell.

Suddenly, consumed will a fiery flash of rage, I tossed the phone across the room and it crashed noisily into the bathroom door. The flames were then subdued by the icy pain that suddenly gripped my chest.

I was so overcome with grief that I didn't notice the sound of water pounding on the bathtub floor suddenly stop, and the movement of a curtain as my husband stepped out of the shower. Footsteps padded heavily on the floor, but I paid no heed; I was lost in my own world of misery at the moment.

Because of my oblivious state, I didn't really notice my extraordinarily tall husband towering over me with the shattered remnants of his i-Phone resting in the palm of his giant hand.

I turned only my eyes toward him and could almost see the steam billowing in silvery puffs from his ears. His dark brown eyes were cold and hard, like blocks of ice, as he stared at me. And, without warning, he struck. First it was a sharp, stinging pain, but it almost immediately shifted into a dull, throbbing type of hurt.

I let out a shriek and scooted backwards on the bed, hands extending protectively to defend my face. "Finn!" was all I could gasp; he had never hit me before, so I had no idea how to react.

"Why were you looking through my phone?" he asked, voice strangely calm.

I didn't respond, just stared up at him with wide, sad eyes.

He struck me again, this time with his fist right against my cheekbone. I shrieked again, this time longer and more agonizing. "Answer me when I'm talking to you, bitch!"

I didn't flinch at the word; it was common for him to call me names and things like that, but he had never had the courage, or reason, to strike me before. "You're cheating on me."

"So? You're a terrible wife," he sneered, tossing the phone – or what's left of it – to the side.

I gasped, but didn't reply in words. And then, without warning, he turned and stormed out. He slammed the door so hard behind him, I could almost hear the expensive wood crack a bit. When he left, I curled up into a ball, knees pressed against my chest. I replay the events that just occurred back in my mind; it had all happened so fast, so painfully…

I think of his betrayal as I stroke the now swollen area on my cheek.

**Author's Note: What do you guys think? Should I continue? :D**


	2. Chapter One

For the next week my husband and I didn't talk much. We still slept in the same bed at first, but we only said simple things to each other, such as "good night" or "have a nice day".

It was always like this after our fights. But this one was different from the others, for many different reasons.

I lay back on our expensive leather couch, soft blanket enveloping me in a safe cocoon. Only the top of my head is exposed, peering over the edge of the blanket to gaze at the T.V. My husband was gone, though it was about seven o'clock at night. He said he had a meeting that would run late; I didn't ask any other questions.

So I was content with watching re-runs of the _Mary Tyler Moore Show_ and feeling sorry for myself. It's not like there's anything I can do to stop him, so I won't waste my breath.

The taps of rain against the rooftop relaxed me, as well as the low hum of the television. I began to doze off…

Suddenly, my stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn't had dinner. I sighed at the inconvenience and tossed the fuzzy blanket onto the cold wood floor. I padded barefoot into the kitchen, clad only in a baggy Mickey Mouse t-shirt and underwear.

I leaned up to open up the ridiculously high freezer (Stupid Finn.) and pulled out what I was looking for. My mouth began to water as I gazed hungrily at the tub of unopened chocolate chunk ice-cream. I sat up on the edge of the counter, and rested my feet on the one parallel to it.

I greedily ripped it open, and took a large spoonful. I just stared at it for a few moments, admiring it, before popping it into my mouth. "Mmmm," I moaned through a full mouth, letting the chocolate-y goodness begin to melt in my mouth.

I happened to cast a glance to my right, where instead of a complete wall was ridiculous amount of windows, in somewhat of a grid pattern. I always despised this part of the house, paranoid that someone was looking in at me.

And, this time, someone was.

**Author's note: Sorry for the short chapter, but I just felt like stopping it at that point… c: Actually, the short chapters are supposed to add to the suspense of the story. When we actually get further in, hopefully they'll get longer and longer. I'm not sure where this story is going yet. I tend to think of the story as I go along instead of planning it. And don't worry, guys, Finn's gonna learn his lesson. C:**

**Anyways, thanks for the reviews! Glad for such quick feedback; it was unexpected. **


	3. Chapter Two

Some people claim to be 'paralyzed with fear' or whatever when they're really, _really_ scared. Not me, though. I don't think I've ever moved so fast in my _entire life_.

I scrambled to get off the counter, dropping and spilling the ice cream in the process. I lunged for the utensil drawer and swung it open, grabbing a knife. I glanced up and towards the window. The figure of a person had gotten closer now.

With all of the courage I could muster, I grabbed the phone and approached the window. "I'll call the police!" I yelled, waving the phone around for emphasis.

The person outside tilted their head slowly, like, I kid you not, _Michael Fucking Myers_. I began to hyperventilate, my chest heaving and eyes widening.

"Please let me in!" a voice from outside called out, interrupting me as I had begun to pray loudly. Surprised at the feminine sound in the intruder's voice, I approached the back door.

"Why?"

"Because it's raining and… and… I need help!"

I hesitated, looking down at the knife and phone. I then looked back out at the person outside. They had gotten closer, but I couldn't tell for sure whether or not they had a weapon in hand. I dropped the phone, but continued to clutch the knife.

I unlocked the door and slowly turned the doorknob, swinging the door open. The sound of rain seemed magnified by a thousand and it was no longer as pleasant as it sounded earlier. The girl hurried towards me, and I quickly stepped out of the way to avoid collision.

She shut the door behind her and turned to me, completely soaked and completely helpless. I felt almost silly for being wary of her before.

She was a couple of inches shorter than me and had long brown hair. Her bangs were plastered messily all over her face and in her eyes, which were dark brown. There were dark streaks running down her face, and I couldn't tell whether it was from the rain or if she had been crying.

"Hello," she murmured, offering me a sheepish smile.

"Hi," I replied, confused. "So, um, why were you outside my house?"

"I was looking for my girlfriend," she said, voice lowering to a whisper. Her lower lip jutted forward as if she were about to cry, making me feel extremely awkward.

"Oh. Well, was there any reason why you would look for her here?"

She gulped and glanced nervously at her feet. "It's a long story… Can I get cleaned up and sit down or something?"

"Oh, yeah, of course…" I replied, internally scolding myself for being rude to her, even if she was an intruder.

A few minutes later we were sitting on the couch. She had changed into one of my t-shirts and a pair of my jeans, which were just a little too big for her.

She held a cup of coffee in her trembling hands, and I prayed that she wouldn't drop it. Finn would be so pissed…

"Well, long story short, she's cheating on me… with…with the man who lives here."

"Finn?" I said, shocked. "Finn Hudson?"

"Yes…" she said awkwardly, shuffling her feet. "He must be your husband... I'm so sorry…"

"Oh, it's fine… I already knew. Just not who he was cheating with."

She nodded. "Her name's Harmony… I love her so much." She began to tear up, once again making me feel extremely uncomfortable. "I wanted to see if I could find her here… Tell her I'm sorry. It's my fault I'm such a terrible girlfriend."

"Why do you think that?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. This reminded me a lot of the excuse Finn has for cheating on me.

"I just know… Why else would she go to someone else?" she asked miserably.

"Don't blame yourself…" I told her, setting a hand reassuringly on her knee. "Finn told me that I was a terrible wife, and I almost believed him, but it's not my fault. And it's not your fault, either."

She glanced down at my hand, then back up at me. "You're right. Thank you for being so kind to me, I really appreciate it."

"No problem. My name's Quinn, by the way."

"Rachel."

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! I've been really busy lately, so I forgot about this story. **


	4. Chapter Three

We sat for a while talking about our relationships. Rachel was nice, I guess, but she could be a bit… emotional? Everything about her seemed exaggerated in a theatrical way. I surely have never met anyone as… uh, interesting?

"Harmony and I met in high school," she paused dramatically, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "We, of course, went to a special arts school intended for the vocally gifted. At first we were major competitors. But, eventually, we warmed up to each other and I found myself with a crush on my best friend. Luckily she reciprocated and we lived happily ever after." She said the last three words with bitter regret, her eye brows furrowing in a look of despair.

When I was sure she was finished (She really talks a lot) I tried my best to comfort her. "I'm sure you'll find someone better in the future. You're still young." Unlike Rachel, I wasn't very good with words; I didn't have many friends, and I had no job because I didn't get along well with people. Now that I think of it, ever since I married Finn I've been… Isolated.

"You're quite right." She sighed, looking down at her lap. "But what about you?" She looked back up and caught my gaze.

"What about me?" I asked, confused.

"You're married. Are you going to divorce Finn?"

"Oh, no…" I replied quickly, letting out a short, loud laugh. Rachel quirked an eyebrow suspiciously, but said nothing as I continued. "Finn wouldn't like that."

"And why do you care what Finn would think?" she inquired, seeming a bit irritated. "He didn't care about you when he was fucking my girlfriend."

I winced a bit; vulgar language didn't seem very characteristic of the impression I had of Rachel. But what did I know? I have only been talking to the girl for about thirty minutes.

"You don't understand," I sighed, shaking my head. "It's not his fault, really. We've only been married a year, and… he loves me, and I love him." I smiled weakly.

"Love's not always enough," she said quietly, sniffing.

I was about to reply when I heard the front door open. I stiffened and glanced up to see him emerging from the hallway.

"Oh, Quinn… I didn't expect you to be up." He mumbled, glancing nervously from me to Rachel. "And who is this?"

"This is Rachel. She is an… old friend who's having relationship troubles," I half-lied, glancing uncertainly at the brunette. She was frowning a bit, but didn't seem like she was going to say anything.

"Oh, well, carry on. I'm going to bed." He walked over and kissed me on the forehead. I shifted uncomfortably, watching as he moved away from me and retreated to the bedroom.

"That was a bit…"

"Awkward? I know." I finished with a laugh.

She nodded, smiling only a little bit.

Rachel began to stand up, placing her coffee on the table. "Well, I think I should be going now…"

"Okay. It was nice talking to you. Good luck with your girlfriend." I smiled. "I guess your clothes should be dry by now, and it's not raining anymore."

"Yes, probably," she glanced down, then back up at me, as if unsure of what else to say. "Alright, goodnight, Quinn."

I yawned and settled back down, pulling the blankets up over me. I listened as the front door eased open and closed. I knew I'd probably never see Rachel again, but I would have been friends with her if… circumstances had been different. It was kind of awkward, meeting the girlfriend of the girl whose having sex with your husband.

Sighing, I slowly fell asleep.


End file.
